Page 7 of Dr. Weston

“I think this is what you are looking for.”

My head snaps up from my computer screen, and that fucking grin takes over my face again before I can stop it. “Wow. Now that’s service for you,” I tease. I immediately grimace as I replay the statement in my mind.Shit. That sounded condescending.

I swear this woman has turned me into an overeager, hormonal teenager. I manage to articulate complex lectures on state-of-the-art new surgical procedures, yet struggle to say the right thing around her.

“Happy to be of help,” Poppy says reassuringly.God, this woman is beautiful.She’s wearing her hair down today. It falls just below her collarbone, styled in loose waves. Her lips are stained cherry red, and her skin has a soft glow about it. Yet, it’s likely her aura. Her radiance seems more than physical.

The royal blue top under her lab coat brings out the vibrant indigo shade of her eyes. But there’s a different sparkle present today I hadn’t noticed before.

A gold one that’s wrapped around her left ring finger.

She’s married? Why didn’t Jarod tell me that? No wonder she turns everyone down who expresses any interest.

“Thank you. I appreciate your taking the time to deliver this so quickly.”

She must have noticed my undeniable change in mood. Why do I feel so defeated? It’s not like I was going to make my move. I don’t date people who work in this hospital. Fuck, I don’t date, period. Why would I set up another woman to get hurt as I did with Camile? I’m a selfish asshole who’s incapable of giving a partner what she deserves. Let’s call it what it is.

Before I can come up with a polite way to excuse myself, Poppy hands off the IV antibiotic to the nurse in charge of Mr. Utterly’s care and walks away. I’m not sure why I’m getting caught up in disappointment over spotting a ring. It’s obvious I have no impact on her anyway.

“I’d be happy to call you if anything changes, Dr. Weston,” Ashton advises as she runs her well-manicured hand dramatically down her dark tresses. “Maybe you should leave us your number so we can call you directly versus utilizing the operator since you’re having trouble receiving pages.” She stares at me expectantly, a hush falling about her peers.

It hits me that had Poppy offered this, I would’ve jumped all over it. However, something tells me giving my cell number to Ashton is dangerous.

“Thanks. I’ve got my office looking into the problem with the service.” I turn my focus to Jenny. “I’ll check on Mr. Utterly again before I leave for the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bye, Dr. Weston,” another nurse calls from behind me. Lifting my hand, I give a curt wave as I head back to my office.

* * *

“Broadie, everything okay?” Jarod asks as I walk by his office door.

“Yeah, why?”

“Beatrice said there was a problem with the BKA you did the other day.”

My jaw flexes at his statement. I hate it when people refer to my patients as anything but their names. They aren’t their surgery any more than they are their room number. “Yes. Mr. Utterly looks like he’s developing a wound infection.” My response has more of a bite to it than it should. I know Jarod doesn’t mean anything by it. I have to admit I’m feeling a bit surly after seeing that ring on Poppy’s finger. Why, I have no idea. “But I think Jenny caught it early.”

I start to head to my office, then stop myself. “Hey, why didn’t you mention the other day that Poppy was married?”

“What?”

“The other day, when we were in the cafeteria, you joked that she wouldn’t give anyone the time of day. You even laughed that it was before you were married. But she’s wearing a wedding ring. It would’ve been a much shorter conversation to say she’s off the market.”

Jarod rubs his hand knowingly over his stubbled jaw. One corner of his mouth lifting in a shit-eating grin. “Somebody’s been doing his homework. What’s up, Broadie? Thought any woman employed at St. Luke’s was strictly off limits.”

“It’s not like that,” I reply dismissively. “She brought some IV antibiotics to the floor, and I noticed she was wearing the ring. Thought it was odd you didn’t mention it. Was curious, that’s all.”

He looks at me skeptically. “If you say so.” Jarod turns as if returning to sit at his desk, giving me the signal this conversation is over.

I start to make my way to my office when I hear him.

“I think he’s dead.”

CHAPTERFOUR

POPPY

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